


Things Left Unsaid

by Fififjonka



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Injury, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-12
Updated: 2017-05-23
Packaged: 2018-10-30 23:50:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10887474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fififjonka/pseuds/Fififjonka
Summary: Jimmy hurts himself late at night and pays a visit to the only man he trusts. And they end up sharing much more than they thought. But Jimmy is young and not as brave as Thomas when it comes to admitting one's feelings, especially if doing so means punishment and makes you an outcast. Even if they were true... Thomas on the other hand is very well aware of how all this could hurt the only person he cares for... Thomas/Jimmy.Set in Season 3 but doesn't follow the night kiss scene. Read&Review, please!





	1. Midnight Toast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I didn't make Thomas too soft in this one but he does have this side to him and if there's somebody he would show it to, it would be Jimmy and Jimmy only.

Jimmy hissed when the knife slid down his index finger, the sharp pain waking him up from his thoughts.

"Damn!"

He looked down at the wound in shock. It was bleeding rather badly and the blood had already poured over the chopping board and the loaf of bread he so unwisely wanted to eat when hunger struck him a moment ago. He didn't know what to do in the momentary confusion, scared by the blood falling on everything around as he moved.

It was late evening and he was alone in the kitchen. He didn't have to be a doctor to see he needed stitches and he didn't have to be a genius to know he would never stick himself up alone. He took a tea towel and wrapped it around the cut. It hurt like hell.

He thought about who he could ask for help but that didn't take too long. There was, in fact, only one person thinkable. For a reason yet unclear to him, the option of Thomas Barrow seemed the least painful to him. Somehow he knew Thomas would never mock him or laugh at him for being clumsy with a knife. Which was funny – considering how he would definitely mock or laugh at everybody else.

Jimmy walked to the staff rooms, sighing before knocking on Thomas' door.

"Yes…" he heard from the inside and he opened the door.

"Jimmy?" Thomas was sitting in an armchair by his bedside lamp, reading a book. He gave him a look of genuine surprise but not annoyance over his late intruding.

"Mr Barrow? May I… bother you for a while?"

"Of course," Thomas said, placing the book aside and getting up. He tied up the belt of his dressing gown, gesturing him to enter. Jimmy had actually never seen him in a dressing gown before. He looked completely different without his stern servant uniform and flawlessly combed hair. Suddenly he was much more approachable and _much more human_ …

"What brings you here so late?"

Jimmy showed him his hand. Thomas frowned.

"Oh, that looks deep," he muttered with concern as he took the towel away.

"You'll need stitches."

"I know," Jimmy said. "But I didn't want to go to the doctor."

Thomas raised an eyebrow.

"You want _me_ to do it?"

"I thought you'd know how to," Jimmy said. " _Please_ … I promise I won't cry."

Thomas smiled slightly. It was funny what change such a small smile could do with him.

"Alright then," he said. "Wait here; I'll bring what's necessary."

He sat him down to the armchair he had just vacated and left. Jimmy waited with the towel pressed against the wound, looking around. There wasn't much the room could tell about Thomas. Everything was clean and perfectly tidy but Jimmy didn't feel much warmness in it, quite the contrary, it gave him the feeling of coldness. He didn't see a single personal thing – a stupid gift from a friend, a horrible-looking sweater from grandma, not even a picture. One would say Thomas Barrow was completely alone in his world. He must have been feeling lonely often. Jimmy realized he didn't like thinking about it.

Thomas came back in a couple of minutes, carrying a first aid kit and a small pot with boiling water, putting it everything on the table and sitting opposite to Jimmy. He took his arm and stretched it towards him. He removed the towel then and Jimmy breathed through his teeth.

"Damn…" he uttered. "Looks like I cut it off completely."

"It'll be fine, trust me," Thomas said.

"I do," Jimmy mumbled. "That's why I came."

Thomas gave him a quick look before lowering his eyes back to the wound.

"This may hurt…" he said. "But I'll do my best to do it quickly."

Jimmy bit his lower lip as Thomas cleaned the wound with disinfectant. New blood kept pouring out the wound as Thomas gently took Jimmy's hand and examined it.

"Three stitches will be just fine…"

He took the needle out of the pot he boiled it in and poured some disinfectant on it as well. He took the catgut then, passing it through the needle. He hesitated for the briefest moment but went on then, piercing Jimmy's skin.

Jimmy didn't make a sound. The pain wasn't all that bad in the end. And there was something about Thomas' skilfulness that fascinated him so he watched him work and didn't think about the pain at all. He truly was gentle with him, not causing any more pain than was absolutely unavoidable. And he was right – it didn't take more than a few minutes and Jimmy was sitting there with a not-bleeding finger treated with three neat, perfectly identical stitches.

"Wonderful," Jimmy said with honesty as Thomas put the needle down, wiping blood from his fingers.

"I would rather bandage it for tonight," Thomas said. Jimmy nodded and watched him do it. When he finished it was almost midnight.

"Thank you, Mr Barrow," Jimmy said. "I knew who to come to."

Thomas was clearly abashed but couldn't hide a flattered smile.

"You're welcome," he said, tidying the table. "You know that."

"Yes, I do…"

"Would you fancy a quick goodnight drink?" Thomas asked and Jimmy nodded.

"That would be great. What do you have?"

"Well…" Thomas walked over the small cabinet and bowed, looking inside.

"I have Glenlivet, a terrible _something_ from the local distillery and _Courvoisier_ …"

Jimmy's eyebrows flew up instantly.

"Courvoisier?" he repeated, not even close to Thomas' perfect French pronunciation.

"What exactly is your salary?" Jimmy asked, bewildered. "Or are you blackmailing someone?"

Thomas took the bottle out, looking at the label with small creases on his forehead.

"It was a gift from my sister. For my thirtieth birthday."

"She must really like you," Jimmy said. "That's quite an expensive goodnight drink."

"I don't drink it often," Thomas said. "That's perhaps why I don't get much of goodnight sleep."

He fell silent immediately, realizing he'd said more than intended.

"You don't sleep well?" Jimmy asked before Thomas could change the subject.

"No, not particularly," Thomas said, rummaging unnecessarily long in the small cabin while looking for glasses. He poured the dark cognac into them and handed him one.

"But who does anyway," he dismissed it with a fake smile.

Jimmy took a sip of the cognac and hummed with appreciation.

"Seems to me I'll have to cut my fingers much more often…" he said, looking up as Thomas snorted, amused.

"Oh, there's still some blood on your –"

But as Jimmy reached to touch the blood spot on Thomas' upper arm, Thomas moved away from him. Jimmy's arm froze in half of the movement.

"I'm sorry; I just wanted to show you…"

"No, I'm sorry," Thomas said quickly. "I shouldn't have overreacted like that."

Jimmy watched him for a moment.

"You don't like someone touching you?"

Thomas shot him a suspicious look with his eyes narrowed slightly.

"You don't have to answer," Jimmy said. "It's a personal question."

"That's fine," Thomas said. He took a sip from his glass, frowning at the chocolate-coloured liquid. He didn't lift his eyes when he spoke.

"It keeps reminding me the past," he said then. "Not a very pleasant one."

"A bully?"

"Something like that… Only closer to the family."

"Oh…"

Jimmy gave him an uneasy look but Thomas wasn't looking at him.

"I –"

"Don't," Thomas stopped him, meeting his look. He shook his head. "Don't say it. Pity is something I would never tolerate."

"I know you wouldn't," Jimmy said. "You really don't look like it."

"I take that as a compliment," Thomas said.

"That's how I meant it," Jimmy said. He was used to speaking primarily about himself. He didn't have the patience nor the interest in listening to someone else's ramble. But when it came to Thomas, he wanted to know _more_. He wanted to ask questions. And that itself was pretty weird.

"And for your information," Jimmy said. "I actually wanted to say I admire people who fight things like that. Who don't give up but go against it and don't mind if they get hurt on the way."

Thomas laughed shortly.

"You mean me? That's too kind of you."

"You put yourself down too much, Mr Barrow."

Thomas watched him with his eyes glimmering softly. He seemed almost touched. Jimmy couldn't believe it was the same person scolding everyone from dawn till dusk. Why was _he_ any different? Why did Thomas treat him so nicely? And never before had he noticed how _handsome_ he actually was. Jimmy blinked. What the hell was he thinking about?

"I'm Thomas," he said then. Jimmy smiled.

"Fine, I like that."

He finished his drink and was surprised he wouldn't mind another one. But it was too late.

"I'll better go," he said and got up. "I've been bothering you long enough."

"Don't worry about it," Thomas said, also getting up from his armchair. "I told you I don't sleep much."

"Yes… Well… Thank you, Thomas. Thank you a lot for helping me tonight."

"You can come anytime," Thomas said. Jimmy nodded. His eyes lingered on Thomas' face for a bit longer, though, and suddenly he didn't want to go. He didn't want to leave him. Leaving him was – in fact – a truly disturbing thought. Thomas' expression was difficult to decipher too and there was a strange kind of sadness in the way he smiled at him.

"Good night, Jimmy," Thomas said, patting the side of his arm briefly. Jimmy had no explanation for the goosebumps Thomas' touch gave him.

"Good night, Thomas. See you in the morning."

"Right," Thomas said. "Do you want me to place this on the kitchen table?"

He waved the bloodied towel.

"So we could have some fun?"

Jimmy laughed.

"No, rather not. I think Mrs Patmore wouldn't have to survive."

Thomas held the door opened for him, saying good night once again before Jimmy was left in the empty, silent corridor. He was tired, had his finger cut and stitched up and had a glass of strong and delicious cognac. So why the hell was he completely awake and _nervous_?

Why the hell was the only thing he could think of _Thomas_ , alone in his room?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The seed of doubt and confusion has been planted but it'll take some time for Jimmy to sort these feelings out for they make him scared more than anything. Thanks for reading and hope you liked it. Let me know what you think before moving to next chap:-)


	2. Dark Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something's got into Thomas again. He's cold, biting and provokes quarrels whenever he can and everybody's completely fed up with him. The only person Thomas spares is Jimmy who suspects that beyond the anger and the nasty remarks is something much darker and deeper. And then one evening Thomas finally allows Jimmy to see through. And Jimmy starts realizing it's not just a mere friendship he'd like to have with Thomas...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally intended to be a OneShot but I quite liked where it was going and thought there could be more... I've already thought about a story that could follow up, so see for yourselves! I know I made Jimmy more sensitive than he originally was but hey - the story wouldn't work otherwise, I'm afraid, for he wouldn't notice anything in that case :-D

Jimmy had almost dropped his cup of tea at the loud bang of Thomas being slammed by Bates into the kitchen cabinets. The dishes clanked loudly behind them, the wood cracking under their weight into the shocked cries of other staff members. Thomas didn’t lift a finger at Bates, though; he was just looking at him with utter distain and defiance in his eyes, cold as ice. He laughed shortly.

“Hoping to scare me?” he said with a crooked smile. “Who do you think I am, an infant? You don’t have the guts –”

Bates tightened his grip on Thomas’ shirt and Jimmy jumped up from his chair.

“Mr Bates!” he said and grabbed his arm. Thomas removed himself from Bates’ grasp then and smoothed his shirt and vest. He smiled and it was the smile that meant nothing nice.

“That was interesting,” he said calmly. “I’ve always known you have what it takes to beat a man. And I like that.”

He didn’t look at anyone else and walked out of the kitchen, leaving Bates breathing heavily, slightly red in the face. Jimmy who had personally never been very fond of Bates must have admitted he felt sympathy for him at that moment. He really believed Bates would beat Thomas’ face up for that nasty remark about his potential son being “a wobbly dim-witted poor fella after his parents.” 

“I do apologize,” Bates said to the shocked audience. “I don’t know what came into me…”

“Well…” Mrs Hughes shook her head, getting up. “That wasn’t completely uncalled for. God knows it really takes a strong will to exist around Mr Barrow when he’s in his _mood_ again.”

“Like I wouldn’t know him,” Bates said.

“Why can’t he just leave us alone,” Ivy uttered. “He must know nobody likes him.”

“He can be nasty,” Daisy said reluctantly. “I think what he’s just said was really mean.”

“Mean?” Alfred repeated. “It was devilish. He’s awful, really.”

“Let’s not talk about him anymore,” Bates said, putting an arm around Anna’s shoulders.

“What about you, Jimmy?” Alfred asked, raising an eyebrow. “You don’t find our _Mr Barrow_ a total bore?”

But others hadn’t yet noticed Thomas had been sparing Jimmy his _nastiness_ and Jimmy wanted it to remain that way.

“Yeah…” Jimmy said slowly. “I guess he is, sometimes. But I am rather avoiding him, you know.”

“Yes, that’s probably the best you can do,” Anna said with a small smile. But Jimmy didn’t want to discuss how horrible Thomas was. He got up and went after Mrs Hughes, catching up with her in the hall leading to the backyard.

“Why is he like that?” Jimmy asked her quietly after making sure they were alone. Mrs Hughes sighed.

“He’s always been like that,” she said. “You don’t know him enough yet and maybe that’s for the better. Keep your distance and it won’t get to you so much.”

She looked strangely at him, making him nervous for no reason.

“And I mean it, don’t let him get too close to you,” she said. Jimmy shook his head at the vague warning and gestured her to continue.

“Well," she said, "sometimes he’s… endurable. And that’s really the best I can tell about him. There are some very, _very_ dark places in Mr Barrow’s mind. Places you don't want to explore, Mr Kent.”

Jimmy could imagine there very well were…

He actually intended to go after him and ask him what was wrong but he ended standing in the back door just looking at him smoking, not having the courage to confront him. Thomas didn’t know Jimmy was watching him and the arrogant smirk he wore all the time vanished from his face, leaving it scarily… _empty_.

“Something on your mind, Jimmy?” he spoke all of the sudden but without turning at him.

“No, nothing…” Jimmy muttered. Thomas looked at him over his shoulder. He smirked but Jimmy could feel no anger and no spite from the way he was watching him.

“Did they send you after me? To make me apologize?”

“No,” Jimmy said. “I’ve just wanted to check on you.”

“That’s nice of you,” Thomas said and it almost sounded like said without irony.

“You upset Mr Bates,” Jimmy stated.

“I did?” Thomas laughed shortly. “It doesn’t take much to upset him.”

“Why did you do that?” Jimmy asked. Thomas pulled on his cigarette and narrowed his eyes.

“Because I wanted to,” he said simply.

“But why? Did he do something to you?”

Thomas fell silent and his grey eyes glimmered darkly. He looked away.

“Thank you for caring, Jimmy,” he said dismissively. “You can tell the others I’m fine, I’m sure they won’t be pleased, so please _do_ tell them.”

* * *

 

Jimmy kept wondering again and again about the _dark places_ Mrs Hughes spoke about. He could tell from the way Thomas was looking at them sometimes or when he wasn’t looking at anything particularly, just being lost in thoughts. There was such harshness and _hate_ in his eyes from time to time it was sending shivers down his spine. And it had actually made him question if Thomas hadn’t been drugged or something that evening a few weeks ago when he had treated his finger, for it seemed like there was nothing left from him now. He hadn’t spoken to him much since then but he had been gradually more and more insufferable. Like a completely different person. And Jimmy didn’t like it. He found himself actually missing the Thomas from the evening a few weeks ago, missing him _very much_. But the best thing Jimmy could say about him now was that he had somehow omitted him from his recent campaign of wrath and cynicism.

If Jimmy had known, though, that the key were a few pints, another heated argument and a pub punch-up, he would have bought him those much earlier.

The Dog and Duck on Friday evening was crammed and getting louder with each hour. Jimmy had accepted the Bates’ invitation to “have a few,” with Jimmy suggesting Daisy and Ivy to come along as well this time. The Bates' didn’t last long, though, and Jimmy had been left with Daisy and Ivy both asking for a dance. Being the centre of attention of two girls at once boosted his spirit high enough and as he was dancing with Ivy, she just wouldn’t stop giggling. If Jimmy weren’t so flattered he would find it a bit annoying.

“Oh no, _him_ again…” Ivy said as she was looking over Jimmy’s shoulder to the bar.

“Who?”

“Our incredibly irritable _friend_ at the bar,” she said and Jimmy turned them both to see.

“Thomas?”

Thomas was standing at the bar, holding a glass of beer in his uninjured hand. As he moved a bit, Jimmy could see his profile. He wasn’t having any conversation but was just looking into his glass. At one moment he ran a hand over his face and let it rest on his eyes for a while. Jimmy felt a weird stab in his stomach but then another dancing pair blocked his view.

“We should say hello,” he said. Ivy didn’t look very pleased.

“Well, we might,” she said, frowning. “I think, right, Daisy?”

Daisy looked up.

“If you want to…”

They made their way to the bar and Jimmy stepped next to Thomas.

“Good evening.”

Thomas turned at him and Jimmy’s smile froze for a moment at the expression he had before Thomas recognized him.

“Hello, Jimmy,” he said and nodded to Daisy and Ivy.

“And to you, _ladies_. What brings you all here?”

“Jimmy invited us to have a drink,” Daisy said, blushing slightly.

“Oh, did he…” Thomas shifted his eyes from Daisy to Ivy and smirked.

“Perhaps you should stay home next time, Daisy. You’re just not quite their match.”

“What?” Daisy said, confused. Ivy – albeit flattered – shot Thomas a vicious glare.

“Enough. We’re going, Daisy. Are _you_ coming?” she turned at Jimmy but he shook his head.

“I’d like to play another game and maybe have one more pint.”

“Right then,” Ivy said, most probably slightly offended. “See you tomorrow.”

But somehow Jimmy didn’t care much about her being offended.

“You don’t have to stay because of me,” Thomas said, his eyes following the leaving Daisy and Ivy before they moved back to him. He acted as if he didn’t just insult Daisy at all.   

“Well, I wanted to,” Jimmy said.

“The girls weren’t happy,” Thomas said. “Two at once, that’s what I call brave.”

Jimmy couldn’t express how unusual it was to hear him speak so _friendly_. He still had no idea how he’d earned such treatment from him.

“But what are _you_ doing here? You haven’t mentioned you were planning to go for one,” Jimmy said. “We could’ve gone all together.”

Thomas dismissed that with a wave of his hand, smiling to himself in that strangely unhappy way Jimmy had already noticed with him before.

“Joe, hey!” a bulky red-haired fellow next to Thomas leaned against the bar, shouting over it.

“You heard what happened to poor Stan? Falling into his own sewer, ha ha, that bloody smell of him!”

The bulky red-head nudged Thomas’s side sharply, spilling a bit of his beer. Thomas hissed with annoyance and turned at him.

“Poor Stan’s smell couldn’t have been worse than yours,” he said. “Now would you move away from me, please?”

The red-head stared at him and so did Jimmy.

“What did you say, _sissy?!_ ”

“I said move away, _big boy_ ,” Thomas repeated, his voice getting angrier and his eyes narrower. Jimmy put a hand on Thomas’ forearm to stop him from deliberately assassinating himself but he didn’t seem to notice at all.

“Don’t you know who I am?” the red-head demanded, turning red in the face as well.

“Don’t make me guess,” Thomas uttered.

“Fucking _bastard_!”

“Alright. If you say so.”

The red-head grabbed Thomas’s jacket then, dragging him towards him. Thomas somehow slipped out from his hands when Jimmy stepped between them to break them apart.

“Stop that now or –“

But Jimmy had never had the chance to finish his useless threat as the red-head lost his patience with him and pushed him away. Jimmy literary flew a few meters backwards and landed on his back right in a card game. A few of the locals helped him up while the commotion at the bar had already attracted bystanders and Joe the bartender was shouting angrily above them all: “Stop it, stop it or I’m calling the police!”

“Thomas!” Jimmy stepped in front of Thomas, pushing him away from the red-head while another man was holding Thomas’s shoulders. He was shocked by Thomas’ violence and the fierce light in his eyes. Shocked maybe wasn’t the right word for Jimmy was actually _scared_. At that moment he doubted Thomas would back off if they didn’t interfere. There were three men hanging on the red-head trying to calm him down and while Thomas’ might have been quite strong, the read-head would probably roll over him like a locomotive.

“Stop it,” Jimmy said, looking at him. Thomas’ lowered his eyes to him and stopped resisting, breathing heavily. He pulled out his valet, threw a few banknotes over the bar and marched outside. Jimmy hesitated for less than a minute before going after him.

“Thomas! Thomas, wait!”

He caught up with him but Thomas didn’t slow down.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Thomas said.

“Right, so you’d let him kill you?” Jimmy asked, baffled.

“Oh, you think I wouldn’t stand a chance?” Thomas asked bitingly and it took all Jimmy’s will to remain calm.

“No, all I’m saying is that the bloke was a giant and he was fuming like a bull, obviously seeing red.”

Thomas didn’t answer. Nobody said anything until they made it home with Jimmy checking on Thomas from time to time with concern. The night breeze didn’t seem to lessen Thomas’s anger at all. After they reached the backyard Thomas sat down on the bench and lit a cigarette, staring ahead blankly and paying no attention to him. Jimmy sat down next to him. He could say Thomas had been in a state of advanced beer intoxication and where others wouldn’t hesitate to run away he decided to give it a try.

“What’s wrong, Thomas?”

“Nothing,” Thomas mumbled.

“And don’t feel obliged to talk to me,” he added then. “Go to bed, please.”

Jimmy had almost been on the verge of actually doing that as he knew he could let him go if he wished not to discuss it but something was telling him not to. His guts were telling him to stay and he didn’t believe Thomas’ words were sincere. And did he not know about Thomas’ pride?

“I don’t feel _obliged_ to talk to you, what kind of nonsense is that?” he said in the end. “I _want to_ talk to you because I see something’s happening to you.”

Thomas wouldn’t look at him but his expression was stern and defiant.

“I said nothing’s happening to me,” he said coldly. Jimmy ignored that.

“Because you can tell me,” he said instead. “I know something’s troubling you and I’d like to help you.”

 “You want to stop me getting on everyone’s nerves?” Thomas asked bitterly.

“No,” Jimmy said calmly. “I want to know if I can help you – with whatever it is that’s bothering you.”

Thomas didn’t answer but merely puffed on his cigarette, his expression hardening even more.

“Why did you provoke Bates and now the guy?” Jimmy asked. “You must have known he’d want to beat you up for that. Did you like _want him_ to do that? For that’s how it looked like to me. What for, for god’s sake?”

Thomas pressed his lips together and closed his eyes.

“Why don’t you tell me? I’m worried about you,” Jimmy said and touched his arm lightly. Suddenly Thomas took a sharp breath and Jimmy felt him tremble with suppressed cry. With the first tears leaking from his eyes he put a hand over his face to hide it. Jimmy was so perplexed by this unexpected change he could only gape at him with his mouth opened, being totally helpless about what to do. It felt wrong to reassure him with hushing like he’d be a little baby and Jimmy sort of knew Thomas wouldn’t find any relief in that anyway but it also felt wrong to do nothing and pretend blindness. He settled for placing a hand on his shoulder eventually, his eyes falling on his hand with the cigarette, which was trembling slightly.

Somewhere deep in his head he was _honoured_ Thomas allowed him to actually _be_ with him when he was feeling so low, to actually _see_ him cry without sending him away. It was a sign of great trust from his side and Jimmy apparently was the only person in the house Thomas wouldn’t throw out for asking personal questions like that. And it felt good to be close to him… Jimmy found he was quite enjoying the physical closeness, realizing _that_ was what he’d been missing about him so much. The closeness…

“Why did you provoke the guy?” Jimmy asked. “Did you want him to hurt you? Because I think you did.”

Thomas shook his head, his face still buried in his hand.

“I don’t know,” Thomas said, his voice breaking. “But I’m a horrible person, Jimmy… And seeing Bates with Anna… Or you with the girls… makes me realize just how much…”

Jimmy automatically squeezed his shoulder. He didn’t know what had caused such sorrow and wished for nothing else than making him feel better. He was actually surprised how much he wanted it…

“Sometimes I’m just so _disgusted_ with myself,” Thomas said.

“Why?” Jimmy asked. “Why would you be?”

“Because… I’m not like the others, I’m… _rotten_ …”

“Don’t say that. You’re nor rotten nor horrible,” Jimmy said but Thomas hissed.

“You know I am. Don’t deny it.”

He took a deep breath and straightened up, his eyes glimmering darkly. He re-lit the cigarette and puffed on it slowly and Jimmy noticed blood on his lower lip still from the fight.

“You are _not_ a horrible person,” Jimmy said once again and he placed a palm on his gloved hand. Thomas’ fingers twitched and he sort of moved his hand away but not completely.

“I think there’s a reason you’re alienating everyone and it’s not because you’d _like_ it,” Jimmy said. Thomas shook his head with a mocking, unpleasant laughter.

“You’re not the first one telling me.”

“Do you think I’m an idiot?”

Thomas looked at him quickly.

“Of course not.”

“Then trust me I know what I’m saying.”

Jimmy clutched his hand and Thomas returned the touch. Jimmy’s heart started beating a bit faster suddenly, his eyes lingering on Thomas’ face. He was ghostly attractive in the low light, with his pallid complexion, his dark grey eyes slightly wider and with the drop of blood on his lip. A warm wave of strangle tingling sensation poured over Jimmy and he found himself shiver slightly, blood rushing in his temples.

He didn’t let go of Thomas’ hand and Thomas had just realized that too. He leaned forward almost unknowingly and Jimmy could feel a feeble scent of his aftershave when Thomas broke the contact abruptly, moving away from him. It wasn’t more than a few seconds and the back door opened. Mrs Hughes gave them a surprised look.

“I thought you were a thief or something…” she said, shaking her head with slight disapproval.

“You look like having more than a few pints. Just be quiet when you go upstairs. I wouldn’t want you to wake everyone up after you’d be rolling down the stairs.”

She left them and Jimmy chortled quietly to lessen the weird moment of silence.

“I bet she’s come from Carson’s room. Poor old man…”

Thomas laughed hesitatingly, giving Jimmy an insecure look afterwards.

“I think we better go in,” he said then. Jimmy nodded. He was too confused to say anything more and he just wished to be alone with his thoughts. As they were parting in the hall, Thomas stood there for a moment, looking down at him with a soft look in his eyes before speaking in a quiet, gentle tone: “Thank you, Jimmy. What you’ve done today means a lot to me.”

“You’re welcome,” Jimmy said with a smile. “Anytime. We’re friends, remember?”

“Yes,” Thomas nodded and the darkness in his eyes faded away a bit. “Yes, I know.”

He breathed in sharply, almost as if he wanted to say or do something more and Jimmy _wanted him to_ so much, for he was too puzzled and too scared to do anything himself. But he just _didn’t want him to leave_.

“I…”

Thomas’ eyes roved over Jimmy’s face and he reached, brushing over his hand with his fingertips but withdrawing immediately afterwards.

“Good night,” he said and turned away. Jimmy fled to his room and as soon as the door closed behind him, he put his head into his hands and closed his eyes with a silent groan.

What the hell was happening here?! He had almost ran after Thomas, marching over his room from side to side. He shouldn’t feel that way, it was unacceptable, and it _wasn’t right_ …  He heard about those _weirdos_ fancying men instead of women and he feared that was what had been happening to him. But these men were _sick_ and the police would punish them and put them in prison for that, it was _a crime_. It was against the law, it was against _nature_. It was some kind of a repulsing mind disease or something. And he wasn’t like that, nor did he ever want to be. He was perfectly normal, he was a ladies man and everybody knew that. He could have any girl he liked. There must have been a different reason why he felt like that about Thomas. 

But as he was lying in his bed that night, not being able to properly fall asleep, he just couldn’t get his mind off Thomas and somewhere deep in his head he knew this wasn’t the way he would feel about a mere friend. Because no matter how nice Ivy was, she just wasn’t on his mind in the slightest. The only person he could think of was lying in the room over the hall only a few meters away. And he too was up the whole night…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what do you think? I hope you liked and I'll be really glad for your feedback for I'd like to continue with this. Next: Thomas' behaviour changes like weather, Jimmy battles his urges and his brain and it's Daisy's birthday, by the way, so there's going to be a celebration! And Thomas' gift doesn't turn out well for anyone, of course...


End file.
